


Snails Pace

by Minky-way (Cardgamesonmotorcycles)



Series: MizuSei Prompts [13]
Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:58:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardgamesonmotorcycles/pseuds/Minky-way
Summary: 'At least your soulmate can draw, Noiz just writes stupid memes on me.''Yeah, but you've met him.'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from anon on tumblr- MizuSei or MizuSly soulmate AU where whatever you draw on yourself appears on your soulmates skin

He didn’t know what his soulmate did, or how he looked, or where he lived or how old he was or even what gender (but he hoped male otherwise things would get awkward), but the one thing he did know was that he drew the most beautiful pictures. It started with flowers, small and uncertain at first, a tiny lily on his inner wrist, appearing as he showered and leaving him so stunned he just stood there until his Grandma began yelling at him for wasting water. So he doodled one back even though he was terrible and it was like a drawing a child would do, never when people could see him because it was well known that any drawings on somebodies skin should be ignored and not mentioned, no matter how visible they were, they were private, secret forms of communication between soulmates.

But then they both grew in confidence, waking up one morning to an entire sleeve of flowers, carefully drawn and even coloured in rainbow colours, green vines and leaves intertwining and running down onto his hand to wrap around his middle finger like a ring. Aoba had stared at them all breakfast and Grandma kept shooting his arm soft looks.

But then one day there were ugly, sharp thorns on his inner thighs, lines so dark the pen must have been digging into skin that must now match his own, responding softly with daisies and a smiling face, because he didn’t know for sure his soulmate was upset, but he seemed it.

 

Drawing on your skin was a serious thing, nobody did it without thinking, or if they did it would either result in them unintentionally meeting their soulmate, or their other half seeing it and being confused, like when Aoba woke up after a party with a dick drawn on his head only to storm downstairs and find Noiz with a matching drawing on his forehead.

 

It was usually at night-time the drawings would appear, Sei would notice something had moved and turn to look at his arm, would ignore whatever he was doing and trace the careful pen lines as they appeared, watch the designs take shape, the petals shaded in or the eyes, and he had a thing for drawing eyes too, took shape.

Sometimes he let him know he was watching, would complete a petal before he could or would start to colour in the design as he went, those times always seemed the most special, his soulmate leaving an outline and him inking it in pretty colours. He knew that wherever he was, he knew he had somebody connected to him, somebody made for just him, that they were sat there, drawing this knowing he would see, doing it for him, like a precious gift he wished would never wash away.

 

* * *

 

 

He never thought to write words before, that seemed somehow strange to him and he’d never been good at speaking to strangers, but his soulmate started first, his words seemed nervous, writing a little shaky where it was, on the soft skin of his palm where it would wash off quickest.

**‘What’s your name?’**

He only paused for a moment, because with his soulmates name he could finally know if they were a man or if fate was messing with him, grabbing the pen he always carried with him and uncapping it, writing messily in his haste, _‘Sei, yours?’_

A pause, five minutes, ten, Sei feeling sick and sweating and his question beginning to fade already, he tried to work out the name as he wrote it, adding swipes, closing his eyes in the end and opening them to see it, in plain black on his skin. **‘Mizuki.’**

 

That name became so precious to him, it was Mizuki who wrote on his skin, who had spent nearly two hours decorating his own leg, foot and one of his arms with tribal patterns, horribly detailed and so incredibly beautiful Sei almost wanted them to last forever. Aoba stared again, at breakfast, giving up on the pretence that he didn’t see and demanding that he strip to his boxers right there in the dining room, watching as his stomach began to cover with the designs, then one of his hands, Grandma walking in and just staring in silent amazement.

“Pft, you’re lucky, Noiz just draws stupid memes on me.”

“At least you’ve met him though.” He went quiet then, Sei redressed and spent the rest of the day colouring himself in, refusing to shower for far too long, though Mizuki must have done the same because the designs were still bold and bright three days later.

 

* * *

 

 

The next time he started to speak, he felt terrible, he’d had a horrible day and he just wanted somebody to talk to, but Grandma was out doing doctor things and Aoba was with his soulmate. He was lonely.

_‘Hi.’_

He had to wait about an hour for a response, he’d written on his wrist, so if Mizuki was in public there was a chance it would remain hidden, but then there was an accidental blob of ink that made him smile, then a simple response, **‘hey.’**

 _‘Are you an artist?’_ Too blunt, too forward, and he cringed, because he knew this was his soulmate but surely soulmates could be freaked out just the same as anybody else could.

 **‘No.’** Then a few minutes of Sei being worried. **‘Tattooist.’**

_‘Do you have tattoos?’_

**‘Two’**

This time he didn’t hesitate, he knew what he wanted the minute he confirmed. _‘Draw them on me?’_

**‘Ones on my face’**

_‘It’s fine’_

**‘Okay’**

He deliberately didn’t look, assuming any written response would be on his wrist again, or maybe the back of his hand so he’d be sure to see it

**‘Done’**

He got up then, slowly, nervously, walking to his mirror and inhaling in soft surprise as he saw the first mark, a neatly traced teardrop on his face, stroking fingers over it reverentially and gaze flickering down to his neck, hiding a smile because neck tattoos were _hot_ , not to mention apparently quite pretty in this case.

_‘I like them’_

**‘Thanks. Do you have any?’**

_‘No. I’d like some. One of yours’_

There was silence then and Sei thought he had gone away again, frowning and just continuing to look at himself in the mirror, wondering what the man looked like who had these markings there constantly, picking up a pen and pausing before his skin, feeling sad again and wishing he knew who he was already, could ring him or invite him over, could have somebody to hold him.

But then he turned away from the mirror and saw the skin on his outer ankle, hopping onto his bed and tucking it up closer to him, laughing as he made out the small snail inked onto the skin, body a grey-purple shade and shell a swirl of orange and yellow.

_‘I love him’_

**‘I’ll redraw him for you every day until I can tattoo it’**

That was so sweet, so unexpected and so damned just… Special that he started crying, not out of sorrow or anything, maybe a little out of longing, but the fact that a basic stranger would do that, the fact that his soulmate seemed so nice, made him feel a horrible pang in his chest, a happy sort of misery he couldn’t fathom.

_‘Promise?’_

**‘Promise’**

 

He kept his promise for nearly three months, but then something happened and the snail washed off as always and didn’t return, his skin remained white and even Aoba couldn’t see anything on his back or any other areas he couldn’t see himself. He began to get scared because the only time he’d heard of the drawings suddenly stopping were when a soulmate had died, and he didn’t even know how he’d feel if he’d never even met his soulmate and he’d died.

He just kept sending drawings, little messages, _‘I hope you have a good day today!’, ‘the rain is pretty’_ , he even drew the snail on himself a couple of times, badly admittedly, but having it there not drawn by his hand felt wrong and later he scrubbed it off so hard he bled and Grandma quietly sat with him until his bottom lip started to wobble and he ended up crying on her shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

“Um, Tio, d’you think you could write something on me?”

“You’re serious? Mizuki… I don’t, I mean that’s not really right.”

“No, I, I’ve been talking to my soulmate, I just- I can’t with broken wrists can I? I just want to tell him what happened, he’ll be worried.”

“So, I’d just write that you broke your wrists?” He nodded then, handing over a regular ballpoint pen in black, because he always drew in black for some reason. “Can I make it obvious it’s not you writing it?”

“Yeah,” Tio nodded again at his response, and, for the first time in his life, drew on somebody else’s skin, writing, as neatly as he could **‘he broke both wrists,’** he was amazed at how fast the reply arrived, feeling a little bad that he’d read it, but smiling because that meant his soulmate must care.

_‘Oh no! How?’_

“Should I reply?” **  
**

“If you don’t mind, I usually draw one thing on him every day, he was probably scared when I stopped. Just tell him the truth.”

**‘He got in a fight, two against one’**

“Too much detail?”

“No, it’s fine.”

_‘Mizuki!!! That’s horrible_ _L_ _How long will it take to heal?’_

**‘Three more weeks’**

_‘Oh okay, guess I’ll have to wait. Or learn how to draw better’_

“Mizuki, listen I really do want to stay so you can talk to him, but my soulmate wrote an appointment on his hand and I really want to try and catch him.”

“It’s fine, tell him and go.”

**‘I have to go, he’d write if he could’**

_‘Okay, thank you for helping us! <3’_

 

* * *

 

After that Sei drew the same, odd shape on his hip every day, it looked almost like a half drawn teardrop and he wondered if it was a strange reference to his tattoo, but he didn’t much mind pondering over it, there was remarkably little he could do with neither hand working fully. So he lay there early in the morning and watched the messages trickle in, the good morning greeting, some comment about the day, sometimes a question he couldn’t answer yet but wished he could, and the mark on his hip.

Then one day all was silent, well, it was always silent, but it was without drawing or words, until about two am when he was drifting off on his couch, lifting the remote to flick off the TV and seeing, in shaky, wobbly handwriting across his knuckles, _‘I miss you.’_

The effort it took to get a pen into his stupid hand was ridiculous, and frankly he was sure he was about to pull a muscle, wrist aching and knowing he was just damaging it as he wrote out in horrifically undecipherable strokes, **‘soon.’**

He only had about a week now until he could get the casts taken off and he was longing for the day where his hands would be useable again, already planning on surprising him with a whole body doodle at the times he always seemed to be sleeping.

_‘You’ll hurt your wrist!!!’_

_‘But thank you’_

_‘Night, Mizuki’_

 

So when Sei went to bed that night, he didn’t expect anything different, walking bleary eyed into the kitchen and not noticing anything had changed until Aoba had grabbed his arm and dragged him, forcefully, into the bathroom to see himself in the mirror. He’d just gripped the arm around his neck and tried not to cry, planting a hand over his mouth and then laughing aloud, because in a proud, ridiculously prominent position on his cheek, was his snail, holding a flower in its mouth.

Aoba had just handed him a pen and left him to it, not commenting when he came downstairs beaming and writing on his arm every four seconds, running out of space and transferring to the other fast.

 

Mizuki watched with a soft smile as the first messages flooded in, obviously all too excited, strings of exclamation marks and _‘oh my god you’re back yay how are your wrists are you okay you need to look after yourself I was worried!!!’_

He didn’t know what to respond at first, but then he did, words flowing out easily, apologising and explaining and drawing whenever he waited for Sei to reply, doodling more snails in a circle and a shark with pointed teeth and a worm with a top hat, dumb stuff. Wondering if Sei was grinning wide, or giggling, or still worried.

**‘What do you look like?’**

He didn’t hesitate this time and he liked that. _‘black hair, really pale, teeny tiny like a girl. Your turn your turn’_

**‘Burgundy hair, tanned, normal height, I guess?’**

_‘Piercings?’_

**‘Just my earlobes, you?’**

_‘None’_

**‘Hm, you know I do piercings too.’**

_‘I want my nose done’_

**‘Sure thing, I’ll pencil you in’**

_‘That would involve me knowing where you work’_

**‘You wanna know?’**

He didn’t reply and Mizuki felt sick, just waiting and cursing himself for being stupid, meeting your soulmate was a big thing, he shouldn’t be suggesting it like that, thinking of Tio who followed any hint on his skin that might help him locate his soulmate, not sure if that was a sign of loneliness or dedication.

_‘Sure. I might come and check you out’_

**‘You’ll recognise my tattoos’**

_‘I know’_

**‘Hm, okay. Black Needle. It’s a bar, in Midorijima, Japan’**

_‘I know it, I live nearby’_

**‘Really?? Fuck. Sorry. Oh god. This is too real now’**

_‘Sorry’_

**‘No, I want to meet you.’**

_‘I want to meet you too. A lot’_

 

* * *

 

 

“Aoba, do you wanna go out tonight for a couple drinks?”

He paused then, lowering the TV remote and regarding him with so much suspicion it was like he’d suggested they go bury a body, baffled as to why Sei would be the one to suggest going out to a bar of all places, and activity he’d usually rather avoid. “Sure, how come?”

“Noiz suggested it.” That was a lie and he was typing out a message letting Noiz know his part in this even as his brother nodded in sudden understanding and shrugged his shoulders, asking what time and where to, letting Sei choose easily and not questioning his choice of somewhere he’d never been before.

 

He’d felt vaguely nervous on the way, but he’d reasoned that he might not be working that night and even if he was, Sei didn’t have to go anywhere near him if he didn’t want to, settling down at a table with drinks and glancing round as a staff switch happened.

The man who had served them was talking to somebody a couple of inches taller than him and for some reason he felt familiar, moving into view and Sei grabbing Aoba’s arm so hard he whined, “Aoba the bartender is my soulmate the bartender is my soulmate oh god I’m gunna throw up.”

“Wait who? The bartender… Is that why we came out? Holy crap Sei, he’s hot!”

“I know! Oh no and I look like a potato.”

“You are no such thing, now I need a new drink, let’s go get one.” He’d grabbed his arm as if planning on bodily dragging him to the bar, grin wide with genuine excitement but not quite registering how suddenly terrified his brother looked.

“Aoba I will rip each of your fingernails out one by one if you make me go over there,” Aoba looked, logically horrified by this, releasing his sleeve easily and settling nervously back into his seat, eyebrows raised in alarm at the force of the threat. “No, I have a better plan, you got a pen?”

“Always.”

 _‘I like your jacket.’_ Just that, plain and simple on the back of his hand so he’d definitely see it, watching to see him notice, so tempted to hide when his head shot up and he began scanning the bar, Sei just glad he was sat so he couldn’t quite see him.

**‘You’re here??’**

_‘Maybe’_

He just kept peering over to him, watching as his co-worker began talking to him, taking his arm and looking concerned, Mizuki obviously distressed and his friends face lighting up as he too scanned the bar, taking the pen from him and writing on his forearm, Sei yanking up his sleeve the second he saw.

**‘You’ve really freaked him out’**

_‘Hi again, sorry. He did say I could come’_

**‘I don’t think he realised you would. Where are you?’**

_‘He’ll have to work that out’_

**‘have fun!’**

He’d snatched his arm back then with an exasperated expression and Sei could see that the other side of the bar was home to a freak out of equal levels to his own, “Tio! Help me I’m freaking out he’s here and he knows who I am but I don’t know who he is!”

“So work it out, I have drinks to make.”

“Tio! Tio would you-“ He became aware he was raising his voice when the concerned looking woman at the bar made eye contact with him, registering the words on his skin and seeming a little amused, maybe knowing his pain.

 

Inspiration hit him so fast he almost felt dizzy, rushing past Tio to the backroom and finding the right colour pens, leaning into the mirror and image coming out shaky where his hands were trembling, knowing he’d look like a complete moron to everybody there when he emerged but determined to find Sei like he’d found him.

“A snail?”

“Shut up, Tio, and tell me if you see a matching one.”

“One step ahead of you, he’s in one of the booths.” Bad friend or not, he’d ben scanning the bar in between making drinks and had noticed one where the occupants were acting oddly, had been able to watch while pulling a beer, the drawing appearing on a pale cheek.

“Which one?”

“Not telling.”

“I will fire you.”

“No you won’t, now go find him.”

 

* * *

 

Mizuki wasn’t sure he wanted to find him, but now he knew he was nearby he somehow felt he had to at least see him, to know what he looked like, fighting the sickly urge in his stomach that told him to run and carefully observing the small selection of booths instead. The ones by the door were occupied yes, but none of the customers matched his description or had the snail on their faces, so he turned to the only remaining one, by the DJ booth, with his heart in his throat.

And there he was, sat with another boy who was looking at him nervously and promptly balked when he saw the bartender standing there looking stunned, elbowing Sei hard so he looked up and cringed back into the seat he was on. He could see his pale hands shaking as he lifted the pen to the back of his hand, and wrote, in oddly neat letters, _‘you cheated.’_

**‘Are you mad?’**

He just shook his head, but he looked incredibly nervous and he grabbed his friends shoulder with a glare when he tried to use the extended eye contact to sneak out of the booth, eyes darting away from Sei’s to see another man arrive, blonde haired and piercings glittering.

“What’s going on?”

“That’s Sei’s soulmate,” he greeted the blonde with a kiss so he assumed they were soulmates too, knowing it was true a minute later when he glanced to their hands and saw matching scribbles, like one of them had been testing a pen.

“Oh, cool. Why does he look like he’s going to throw up?”

“Not a clue, nervousness?” Mizuki didn’t much appreciate the running commentary, and Sei shot them a glare that had them scrambling off and him instantly regretting his decision, staring after them as if silently screaming for them not to leave him alone. He just looked back to Mizuki, eyes scanning over every inch of him, pausing on the stupid snail he knew was on his cheek and lip twitching, nibbling a fingernail nervously.

“Are you okay?” He hadn’t quite meant to ask it aloud, but he had and something in Sei’s expression changed, standing so fast he all but walked into the table, glasses clanging together loudly and one toppling over, just staring as lemonade covered the floor and cringing so hard Mizuki knew he was regretting even being alive. But he managed to brush off the mortification even as his cheeks were the brightest pink he’d ever seen, squirming out from behind the table and moving to stand in front of him, a short distance away, mouth opening and closing uncertainly before he reached for his pen.

_‘Can we go somewhere quiet?’_

“Follow me,” he might be too nervous to speak but Mizuki wasn’t, just knowing he’d have to watch his skin for a little longer yet.

The man behind the bar definitely knew, shooting them both such an enthused thumbs up as they passed and walked into the ‘staff only’ part of the bar, that he actually smiled in response, knowing that had to be the man who’d let him know about Mizuki’s broken wrists and feeling very warm towards him as a result.

 

* * *

 

But then they were in the back room, his tattoo studio, and he didn’t know what to say, it was horribly quiet and all he could do was stare at him, taking him in, his broad shoulders and muscled arms, thinking, as Aoba had said, how damned hot he was and feeling remarkably lucky and remarkably terrified too.

“Black hair, pale skin, teeny tiny like a girl. But you didn’t mention how cute you are.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, just knowing he’d flushed bright red and dipping his head down so he missed Mizuki’s smile, a soft, affectionate thing that would have only made his blush worse.

“You-“ he almost missed it when he first spoke, lifting his head and licking his lips nervously, glancing around at the tattoo gun and supplies. “You think you could do that tattoo?”

“Hm, I could. Or I could draw it for you forever.”

His expression faltered a little then, and to Mizuki’s alarm his eyes looked suddenly wet wiping at one large eye with his sleeve and cheeks still pink with embarrassment, chuckling a little damply.

“Are you okay? Oh god, please don’t cry, have I messed up already? Are you disappointed?” His brain immediately flew into panic mode and the idea that he might have ruined their first meeting filled his brain with thick, horrifying fear.

“No, no, don’t be stupid, of course I’m not disappointed. It made me cry the first time you said it too.” He looked the tiniest bit embarrassed, but he was making eye contact at least and he hadn’t actually cried so Mizuki figured it could definitely have gone worse.

“Why?”

He shrugged, it was hard to explain, but knowing a basic stranger would take time out of their day to draw something on him every day made him really happy and he couldn’t really express how much, words not saying enough. “It’s just really sweet that you’d do that for me.”

“Did you think I was a thug or something?”

“You look like one.” He would have been offended, but he was smiling and looked a little overwhelmed, eyes scanning over him like trying to commit him to memory, only realising Sei was teasing him when he laughed a little.

“Are you always this nice to your soulmates?”

“I dunno, I’ve never had one before.”

He smiled at that, but then his expression changed into something warm and Sei still had that nervous, teasing smile on his face and he’d spoken too soon again, “can I hug you?”

“Mm-hm,” he agreed the second he asked, nodding a little too jerkily, too excited but not caring because this was his soulmate and he was just as sweet in person, this was the man who had sat there every day and drawn a snail just for him, who had decorated his body with beautiful flowers, who had cheered him up and reminded him he wasn’t alone.

He fucking loved him, and as much as a part of him said that he couldn’t possibly love somebody he just met, he knew the second he was in his arms, tucked perfectly against his body like they were made for each other, that there was no way this was anything but love.

They stayed like that for a really long time, much longer than he’d normally hug anybody, but it was like he was trying to memorise every second, the strong hands around his middle, the warm chest against his. “Would it be creepy if I said you smell really good?”

He paused to debate that, then considered that Sei couldn’t help but smell him like this, and he had also thought that whatever Sei’s shampoo was smelt great and even he wasn’t that much of a hypocrite. “Nah. You do too, like apples.”

“Shampoo.”

“Mm, it’s nice,” he half wanted to never let go, but he’d have to eventually and somehow that only made him hold on tighter, one of Sei’s hands curling up at the back of his neck, so warm and familiar that it was like he’d known him forever.

“ _You’re_ nice.”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“But I will,” he said it with so much certainty that all Mizuki could do was nod, feeling the other move back and loosening his grip, not really wanting to release him but doing so enough that he could be at arms-length, could see his eyes so warm and bright and had he mentioned yet how damn _pretty_ he was?

He’d shifted free then, taking a step back and removing a marker from his jeans pocket, looking like he was debating his next words and Mizuki happy to study him as he overcame the blush on his cheeks and the shakiness his own hands mirrored.

“Lift up your shirt.” He looked bemused, but did as he was told, seeming more alarmed as Sei leaned in close to his skin, maybe wondering if his soulmate was some sort of lunatic or sex crazed madman, expression falling as Sei lifted his shirt to match. The strange shape was on both their skins, and as Sei leaned in and he felt the pen against his hip, he watched it finally be completed on Sei’s pale flesh, almost hitting himself, because of _course._

“Cliché, I know. I just- even before I knew your name I jus-. Ah, you just meant a lot to me, I guess. You, you _mean,_ a lot to me.” He was struggling, fingers shaking where he played with them nervously in front of him and Mizuki had never felt so affectionate towards anybody, reaching across the short divide between them to take them in his own, the movement strengthening Sei’s resolve. “So, I figured that when we met, it would be like, two halves becoming whole- That’s, that’s really cheesy. But yeah, so, I just wanted to show how much I’ve appreciated you being there and um, so, I picked a heart. Because I’m unoriginal, and I can’t draw, and, yeah…”

“I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” then Sei was just looking up at him, hands enveloped in warm tan, and Mizuki felt warm, and comfortable, and more complete than he ever had, exhaling deep into the space between them and mouth in the easiest, most genuine smile it had ever given. “I like _you._ ”

“You don’t know that yet.”

“I do though, I like you  a lot,” Sei looked like he was going to respond but Mizuki had already released one of his hands so he could cup his cheek and kiss him, and screw asking because he should have known things like that wouldn’t matter when this was his soulmate. They were destined for each other, two halves of a whole, so of course Sei melted into him immediately, of course everything felt right and perfect, and of course Sei’s smile against his mouth was wide and beautiful and it was exactly the same when he pulled away.

He kissed him again then, a couple more times, slow and sweet and god this was great and he was buzzing with adrenaline and happiness and- “Aren’t you meant to be at work?”

“I think they can manage without me for a while.”

“Good, I don’t feel like sharing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Did I base the snail idea on my own snail tattoo? Yes, and I have no regrets
> 
> Tumblr @[minky-way](http://minky-way.tumblr.com)


End file.
